The Pony Express or How Mail Gets to Wyoming

Or maybe the mail doesn’t get to Wyoming at all. I’m starting to think that’s the case–my mother sent me my calligraphy set last Friday. As of the last post (on Saturday, a week and a day later), it still hasn’t arrived. I’m miffed about that because noodling about with some ink and so forth is what I’d like to do just now. I spent literally all of my Sunday grading (all right–all of my Sunday minus a longish tea break at 10 a.m. and a very shortish dinner break at 5:30), and if I were a smart person, I would return to my stack of papers before I go to bed.

If I were a smart person, I also would do something else with my night that doesn’t involve holding a writing instrument. Or typing. Or knitting. Generally speaking, I would do something with little or no involvement of my wrists and fingers.

Does anyone have any actual hobbies that fit this bill?

Perhaps riding Pony Express and getting the mail to Wyoming faster than its current pace would suffice.

Now I have my good and practical reason to get that horse I’ve always wanted.

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